


By You, I Fell

by Baelfire



Category: Sherlock (BBC), Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Death Threats, Eventual Romance, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fetish References, I mean he's really hot, Jim Moriarty is hot, Light Threesome, Prostitution, Psychopaths In Love, Reader-Insert, References to Drugs, Somewhat Gun Violence, Swearing, criminal activity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-18
Updated: 2014-09-21
Packaged: 2018-02-17 21:53:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,567
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2324465
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Baelfire/pseuds/Baelfire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>***WARNING: dark content, smut, curses, violence, drugs...etc. And I’m sorry if I broke your feels from all the fluffs you’ve read before, well, this. I might let my imagination get the best of me... I also intend to make it longer than the images in my brain, so please bear with me. </p>
<p>*Disclaimer: I OWN NOTHING BUT THE PLOT!</p>
    </blockquote>





	1. Rendez-vous Charmant

**Author's Note:**

> ***WARNING: dark content, smut, curses, violence, drugs...etc. And I’m sorry if I broke your feels from all the fluffs you’ve read before, well, this. I might let my imagination get the best of me... I also intend to make it longer than the images in my brain, so please bear with me. 
> 
> *Disclaimer: I OWN NOTHING BUT THE PLOT!

It has always been the same color for you, in all the years you’ve lived. Black represents everything around you, even the air you breathe. You were suffocating, slowly, as you tried your best to blend in with darkness. Passing through alleys at midnight was not your ideal choice for a moonlight walk. But what other choice do you have, for this is the fastest way to get home from your job. Cold winds were caressing your cheeks and it was awfully quiet; though you didn’t seem to care, because you enjoy absolute silence. Especially on days like today, with you messing up everything you do. Madame Jacqueline yelled at you from the top of her lungs, about how incompetent you were, in the “serving a client” expertise. The others were just standing there in horror as the Madame slapped you hard, cursing your very existence along with how you are ruining her business and that she should just have you killed. You didn’t mind that, not at all. In fact, you would even thank Madame Jacqueline. “Death is salvation,” you thought to yourself as you quicken your pace to your apartment.

 

The door unlocked. Tossing your heels on the floor, you tried to find the light switch and flipped it on. As your eyes were adjusting to the over-bearing light, you slowly took your jacket off. That action was followed by your crop top, revealing the small cleavage between your voluptuous swells. The next victim on your list would be your ripped denims, along with its best friend, black lace lingerie which barely covers your buttocks. Your feet were reaching the refrigerator when your whole body becomes bare as Eden. After popping a bottle of beer, you flopped down onto your couch and turned the telly on. There was not much on, but you couldn’t care less. Every show was the same; every piece of news was the same.  When the bottle was half-empty, you decided to change your form of entertainment for the night. You took your laptop into your hands and turned it on. You opened your browser, then a bookmarked website. Your heart rate was starting to rise as the page loads. You were beginning to feel nervous, because if anybody comes through the door at this exact moment, your stark-naked curves would not be your first concern. Finally, your browser shows what you were waiting for: “The Science of Deduction” – by Sherlock Holmes.

 

Exactly a month has passed, from when you first stumbled onto his blog, and you still find it hard to believe that an “Analysis of 243 Types of Tobacco Ash” entry could catch your eyes. Ever since you saw those smoky waves coming out of Madame Jacqueline’s lips, you were entranced. You find something trapped between existence and non-existence so fascinating that you can’t help but watch, with amusement in your eyes. Of course, it developed into a habit, and then changed into a permanent interest. This blog entry just happened to be a part of it, and yet, you can’t seem to stop reading. People have called you names before: bitch, slut, whore, whatever comes to their heads first; but there was something they didn’t notice about you. You were a psychopath, in your own way. You realized this when your parents passed away. Even though you cried in front of your less-than-pleasant relatives, you felt absolutely nothing.  At your younger age, you watched a lot of movies, and you would understand those feelings perfectly. You could perform them even more perfectly; however, you can never keep any kinds of emotion for long. There was something wrong with you, that was your first thought. As time passes, you gradually accepted your flaws and you adjusted. Still, you can never feel whole as a human being. It troubles you, a bit.

 

You were scrolling down to re-read the blog entry again, when your phone rings, blasting your eardrums. You picked it up and the name “Madame Jacqueline” appeared. You pressed the little green button.

“Yes?”

…

“But I thought you kicked me out for the night.”

…

“I wasn’t being impolite; he was the rude one, faking health records.”

…

“No, I will not apologize. I did nothing wrong.”

…

“Now, now, Madame, you can’t possibly replace any of your girls. And new clients will always come, so why fussing too much over this?”

…

“Yes, yes. I’ll even give you my whole share of ‘payment’ if you stop pestering.”

…

“I’m sorry for the sass. But why do you need me in? Surely, tonight’s clients aren’t picky.”

…

“Someone asked for me personally? Do you have a name?”

“Moriarty.”

 

Your heart nearly jumped out of your chest when you heard the name of your client. Shivers started running down your spine, as fear spread through your whole body. You almost forgot the feelings that man brought along with only his last name. But the worst will come after spending a night with him… He has been neglecting his high class brothel for some other businesses all this while and now he’s back in town. You were silent for seconds before you spoke up again, “I’ll be right there.” You hung up the phone right after, and started to prepare yourself for any scenarios. You took a quick shower, dried your hair, and styled it before you put your sleek low back dress, stockings on. You knew exactly what Jim Moriarty prefers. Before you leave your flat, you put on classy make-up, checked everything twice, and put on a trench coat. The door opened. Your living room turned black, leaving only the light from your laptop, still with “Analysis of 243 Types of Tobacco Ash” on.

 

You stepped out of your apartment in a hurry and almost tripped on your Louboutin. You practically almost jumped in front of a cab instead of catching one like everyone else, thanks to your own bundle of nerves. As you sat in the taxi, you saw a friendly-looking cabbie. Apparently, he was a family’s man, provided you saw a picture of his children/grandchildren near the radio station. You figured it was an ideal ice breaker, so you spoke up.

 

“Good evening, are those your children?”

“Well, yes, thanks for noticing, miss. It’s a bit weird that you asked, though.”

“How so?”

“You see, people always assume that they’re my grandchildren.”

“I see. I chose my words wisely, then,” you smiled.

“May I ask where you’re going, miss?”

 

You gave him the address, while silently thanking him for not asking why you were out so late. You were leaning your head against the window as you admired the street lights. London certainly has its charm increased when night falls. It took about 10 minutes to arrive. While getting out of the cab, you asked for his name.

“It’s Jeff. Jeff Hope, miss.”

“Thanks, Jeff. Here, have a coffee on me.”

 

You paid him a little more than what he expected; he thanked you and started driving. You turned around to walk into the building. The floor was made of marble, which makes your heels bring out a delightful sound. You stood and waited, until you stepped into the elevator, pushing the 11th button. The elevator started moving and your stomach began to form knots. You were a little more than tense; your thoughts were all jumbled up. Oddly, you found these feelings very interesting and wondered if they’d last. The elevator stopped and woke you from your train of thoughts. You now find yourself standing on a long blood red carpet, with only one room ahead. You inhaled, and exhaled before taking off your trench coat and started walking towards that room. Before you reach the door, you scanned the area and you found that it’s not locked. Letting out a sigh, you decided to push the door open. The first thing you saw was a room filled with black, red and white. Then, your eyes swiftly moved to his silhouette. He was sitting in the dark with a glass of scotch in his hands, thinking, just like last time. You watched him, but not too long, as you let your voice out.

“Good evening, Sir.”

 

“Kitten~” he sang that word out loud and turned to look at you. You could almost see the smirk on his face, despite darkness surrounding him. He looks devilishly handsome as always; still wearing Westwood, you assumed. After all, that is his trademark. “The Devil Wears Westwood,” your own thought humoured yourself. You tried to keep a chuckle inside, before speaking out loud again.

 

“It has been an honour to have you chosen me as your entertainment for the night. What could I do for you, Sir?”

“Hmmm~ still an obedient one, aren’t you?”

“Only if you desire that of me, Sir.” your lips curved upward slightly. 

“Close the door.” he spoke with a soft Irish accent, which made you shiver in both bliss and terror.

You did as you were told, just to turn around and find yourself being injected with something. You jumped a bit at the sensation of the needle on your skin. It hurt, but it tickled.

“Hello, Sebastian.” you spoke with a grin on your face. He stayed silent, until Moriarty told him to reply.

“Hello to you, too.”

 

And then, you started quivering under your dress. The candles in the room were lit by Sebastian, making your visions clearer. You glanced at Sebastian while he was lighting something else, apart from the candles; it has a sweet scent to it.  Suddenly, your body feels so…very… hot. You looked at Jim Moriarty again, and saw him looking at you with a strange glint in his deep black orbs. Your knees were giving up on you. You collapsed on the floor while still feeling awake, but your head has this odd dizziness. Jim put his glass down and started walking towards you, humming in his steps.

“How do you feel, kitten?” he is looking down at you, expecting.

 

“It feels… hot.” Through your hoarse voice, you could almost feel your tongue wanting something…needing something. Little did you know, you were looking at him with such glistening hunger in your eyes. He saw right through them. A thought crept into the back of his mind; that you were adorable.

“Sebastian~”

“Yes, boss?”

“Would you carry this little kitten to the bed and prepare her for me?”

“Okay, boss.”

 

You felt yourself being lifted, being carried, as you dug your nails into Sebastian’s chest. You started whimpering a bit when you feel sensations travelling down between your thighs. You didn’t mind being drugged, for it also happened the first time you’re with Jim Moriarty. Besides, if drugs could give you some normal human emotions, then who were you to complain? Sebastian laid you down and your back feels softness against it; the feeling was soothing. Your eyes were close when you felt fingers against your skin. You turned your half-lidded eyes to the direction of Sebastian caressing your thighs. You smiled into the touch, but you knew Moriarty wouldn’t want things to be so gentle. No, he wants you to be ragged. He wants to see you desperate for his touch. Yes, he wants you to beg. Without a warning, you felt Sebastian turned your body, so that you’re lying face down. He abruptly ripped your dress in half; that harsh sound turned him on. Moriarty also felt the same way, as he was watching them both very carefully. He also noticed you were wearing a rather lewd pair of stockings, with no kinds of lingerie on. He was immensely pleased.

 

Sebastian was not feeling patient; because he was a man, he also had needs. He lifted your hips up high, making your back arch, while your face is still buried in the sheets. He would have admired the view a bit longer, but he was given a task and he doesn’t like failing. His hands were caressing your thighs as he began to move his face closer to your pink curtains. He remembers how you reacted the first time, when he accidentally blew a breath of air into your moist lady part, and he loved it. You started to shift a bit when you felt a light, cool breeze making its way to your entrance. “…mmm…” a small sound escaped your throat, soft enough to make them curious and loud enough to drive them wild. Sebastian knew he could not hold on much longer without losing his control, so he started kissing your folds and teasing your clit. His rough lips were no amateur, even though you were under influences of the drugs; you felt your legs trembling at his touch, your hips swaying up and down asking for more. He immediately knew what you wanted and slid his tongue inside so quickly you could scream, but the only sound escaping your lips is a wheezy moan.

 

Jim Moriarty’s eyes were on you, he was focusing, or at least he was trying to. There was something wrong with him today. Maybe he ate a bad salmon; maybe he drank too much wine. If it were the salmon, God saves the chef. But that uncomfortable feeling was not in his stomach, it was in his chest. On one hand, he enjoys seeing you being toyed with. On the other hand, he did not like what Sebastian was doing with you. It felt bizarre to him, because this is not the first time he asked of Sebastian something like this. So why, why couldn’t he enjoy watching you fully, before he breaks you under his skin? It wasn’t until you let out a come so violently that he snapped out of his own train of thoughts. He only saw you came for the first time tonight, and he was eager. He wanted to dominate you against the wall. He wanted to shove his manhood deep inside you. He wanted you to scream his name over and over until you pass out from your own orgasm. He wanted to brand you with his name on your pale flesh.

 

Sebastian was gasping for air when Jim came closer and told him to move aside. Sebastian found it weird that his boss would get so horny so soon, but he didn’t raise any questions. He moved away from your still throbbing velvet to leave the room. As soon as the door was closed, Moriarty sat down on the bed and commanded you to turn over. You fulfilled his request. You were facing him, as he ordered you to remove his clothes. Your fingers started to trace down all of his clothes’ openings in order to complete his demands efficiently. His favourite Westwood started disappearing one by one, until his whole body was revealed to you. You lied down again; your legs were spreading wide as your fingernails dug into your own skin. You were inviting him in, knowing that he would like it.

 

And he did. Jim wasted no time, but he didn’t want to rush and give you what you wanted right away. There is so much fun in teasing you and torturing you. He could never pass up on that offer. You were looking at him with your lips in anticipation of whatever comes your way. Instead, you find your swollen bounty being fondled by his freezing hand. It made you shutter. He noticed that change in your body language and he took advantage of it. His other hand was now at your vulva, sliding up and down, sometimes round and round in a circular motion. Pleasure was flooding over you as you let out continuous moans. He seems to realize that he likes those waves of sounds. He likes your voice. With this sudden realization, he pushed his fingers right into you. You gasped, surprised by the sudden enter. He was at a loss, he was engrossed in you. He began to quicken the pace, while laying his lips on yours, making you breathless. Your back arched again, as you came for the second time tonight, with muffled sobs stuck in your throat. He let go of your lips; before you could pass out, he rammed his cock deep inside you. You let out a loud cry. The sudden impact was too much for you at that point, but you loved it nonetheless. He knows your body so well. He was very confident despite having only slept with you once before. He was a genius; and he was sure that your body matches his perfectly. He lifted you up to sit on his lap. He wanted to go even deeper. He wanted to feel his head tearing your womb apart. Just the thought of it made him harder. He started his thrust; he has made up a rhythm of speed for your sensual pleasure as well as his own. He knew you were stubborn; he knew you wouldn’t say his name that soon. He had to force his name out of you. A grin made its way onto his face as the game begins.

 

“Oh, oh oh!!!” it was your third come tonight, but it wasn’t over yet…

“Hah… Hah… Ah~!” fifth time now, it seems.

“Guh… Gah… Umph!” more, he wanted more.

 

His lips have now travelled all over your body leaving territorial marks everywhere, but it wasn’t enough. He wanted to make sure that your body remembers his so clearly that you’d play with yourself if he wasn’t around. And he wasn’t going to stop, not yet.

 

“Ah… Oh… Ah… M…”

“What…was that, kitten?”

“M-Moriarty…”

“I’m sorry…hm…I can’t quite hear you~”

“Moriarty.”

“Louder.”

“Hah… Jim! I-I’m…”

“Hphn!”

 

You came for the last time tonight, as Jim made a few more thrusts then filled you completely. Your mind was numb, your body was numb, and you passed out from the waves of your own orgasm. He was still holding you in his arms, while you laid your chin on his shoulder. He let out a sigh of relief as he has satisfied his needs. But there’s more. He feels something else, something entirely different yet the same. He slid his member out of you and laid you on the bed. Usually, he would always get up this instance, take a shower and kick the harlot out. When he’s with you, however, he’s not the same person that he knows. He pulled the sheets up to cover your body and wrapped his arms around you. He was watching your sleeping face, and he was enjoying every second of it. It’s a very strange thing for him to do. He couldn’t quite understand his actions towards you. You shifted in your sleep, burying your face into his chest. Your warmth and steady breathing was putting him to sleep. He couldn’t fight back his drowsiness anymore. His last thought was of his adorable little kitten.


	2. Désir Enflammé

Almost a week had passed since your night with Jim. The bruises on your skin were starting to fade, except for the one on your neck. He nipped that spot until you bled, after all.  Upon remembering the sensation, you shivered with delight. Madame Jacqueline had requested that you take some time off until your skin is spotless. “You bloody twat! There’s no fucking way I’d let you scare the clients away! Now get out of my sight!” was what she said. It didn’t really matter, because that was your first long break in a while. You wouldn’t get paid, of course. Jim wanted to make sure that you stay beautiful until his return, so he had someone delivered his credit card to you personally. His minion nearly had a heart attack when he saw you greeting him with no clothes on. You actually didn’t need his credit card, because you have already saved up enough to survive for a year on your own. You were grateful, nevertheless, so you wrote him a letter to give thanks. When Jim received the letter, he let out a grin, for it was signed with lipstick from your plump lips; and it smelled like you.

 

It was 8:00 in the morning. Today was your last day off. You opened your eyes to the baby blue walls of your apartment, and blinked twice. You usually rolled around for a bit before you get out of bed, but you decided to stay in bed a little longer. An hour had passed; you were now sitting up on the edge of your bed with your feet touching the floor. You got up eventually and walked to your bathroom. After the morning routines, you put on some light make up and styled your hair. You decided to go out for breakfast, while putting some clothes on. You chose a vertical stripes shirt and buttoned it up to the collar, along with black leather jeggings. It wasn’t very cold outside and it wasn’t raining; so you finished your look with a long cardigan, your favourite ankle boots and a fringe hobo bag. You locked the bedroom’s door, as you were making your way to the stairs. Skipping down, you wonder what your breakfast choice would be. When you were done making sure that every door was locked, a coffee place popped into your head. You only saw it once, a few days ago, while taking a stroll. If your memory served you justice, they offered breakfast too. Your stomach grumbled, signalling you to stop over-thinking. You shrugged and left.

 

Arriving at the place, you scanned your surroundings and chose a booth. The waiter came with a menu in his hands. You flipped through the pages, until you made your order. The seat you took had a perfect view of the outdoors. You enjoyed looking at random strangers; observing what they wear, how they look and their facial expressions. You liked guessing what type of person they really are, but you’d never say it out loud. Another waiter came back with your food. You have no favourite types of food. You’d rather try different things in order to please your huge taste buds. Your choice for today was a full English Breakfast and a Side Salad. You dislike cold tea, so you’d always order your drink after you finish your meal.  It took you a good 15 minutes before asking for a take-away order of your favourite Earl Grey. After a while, you paid for the meal and left some tips. You were leaving the café with a nice cup of tea in your hand, when you got a phone call. It was from one of your usual client. Apparently, he arrived at the place requesting for you, but you were not there. Madame Jacqueline knew him as righteous man, in spite of his sexual preferences, so she told him about your condition. Thus, when he told the Madame that your spotted skin would not be a hindrance, she was relief. Things had been chaos on her watch recently. Her institution was a bit understaffed, due to the amount of clients increasing, and not all of them were gentlemen. You understood the urgency of this situation, so you changed your tracks.

 

Entering the building and waiting for the elevator’s door to open, you fixed your attire a bit before moving onto the 10th floor. Madame Jacqueline divided her girls’ work station according to their professionalism, experience and beauty. There were only four floors under her control at the moment. It also included the highest floor, the 11th, which was only reserved for Jim Moriarty and his right-hand man, Sebastian Moran. The Madame was very strict with the topic of which girl goes to which floor. She did not want to upset the customers, so she arranged for a card reader inside the elevator, which would read each girl’s plastic card and send her to the right floor. She had also prepared a unique punishment for any girl who broke the rules. For the sake of an early morning still, you dismissed the memory of what happened last time. Though, you did like watching how things progress from opposition to submission for the other girl. You found it interesting how chains and whips could put somebody in a state of losing controls. Smiling to yourself, you made a mental note to try learning more about this new subject when you get home. The elevator just reached floor 7th when you had a text message. Taking out your phone to read it; and you were surprised. Jim Moriarty just sent you a text personally.

 

‘What ‘cha doing, kitten?’ -JM

‘Working, Sir.’ you did not hesitate on replying.

‘After I specifically told the pimp to give you the whole week off? It’s been what? 6 days?’ -JM

 

Jim wasn’t pleased when he received your reply, mostly because someone did not follow his exact order. He still remembered the next morning with you, like it was yesterday… After waking up to find you still sleeping near his heart, he gave out a genuine smile. It was the kind of smile that none of his associates would believe he was capable of having. He then removed the sheets covering your body. He wanted to let that image sink deeply into his memory; the image of you being branded by him in every possible way last night. But he soon regretted his action, as he thought of what was going to happen next. You would wake up eventually and he would have to pay you for an evening well spent. There would never be any other words exchanged between the two of you after dawn, because you only did your job and he was only looking for carnal pleasure. Furthermore, he was not the only one. There will be other men touching you, touching his brandings on your skin. Jumping to this conclusion, he was starting to get angry and he knew he had to do something about it. He left you your payment; then got dressed hastily, walked out of the door and called Sebastian.

 

“Sebastian!”

“I’m right here, Boss. You don’t have to yell.”

“Go and tell the hag to give her the rest of the week off.”

“Who and who?”

“The one who runs this place and my little kitten.”

“Right on it, Boss.”

“Oh, and add if she doesn’t do what I asked, I will skin her alive.”

“Just the usual then.”

 

Moriarty couldn’t hear Sebastian’s voice anymore. He was trying to leave as fast as he could, because he did not want to massacre anyone who stood in his way. He could, but he wouldn’t. It would make a goddamn bloody mess, which would affect his business and upset you. Strange; he disliked the idea of you being saddened by his actions more than he cared about his wallet. He dismissed that ridiculous thought as he left the building. Sebastian did exactly as he was told, and Madame Jacqueline complied. Jim even ordered his minions to check on you every once in a while. He discovered more about you as the days go by. You preferred to walk around naked when you’re inside the house. You would always turn on your laptop to surf the webs after you’ve drank half of your beer. You disliked having bright light in your apartment, due to the thinness of your cornea. You loved having fresh flowers in your home, though you would always crush them before they wither. He had always been interested in plants, but not so much with their cousin, flowers. And you got Jim curious. He had created many equations of reasons in his mind, but he still couldn’t get the one true reason behind that particular action. It bothered him even more these days. However, Jim was the type of man who would dispose of you before he let whatever you do interfere with his line of work. Being the only Consultant Criminal did have its special necessity.

 

‘The number of clients has increased since last week, Sir.’

‘So?’ -JM

‘The Madame could only tell them so many sweet nothings.’

‘Yeah, so?’ -JM

‘And I don’t want to see your business shutting down.’

‘I could always build it back up, you know.’ -JM

‘Yes, but it wouldn’t be the same, Sir.’

‘How?’ -JM

‘It would no longer be the place where I first met you.’

 

The elevator stopped the moment you hit send. Stepping out of the elevator, you sent Jim another one excusing yourself from him to go to work. Little did you know, that action alone stirred up jealousy in his heart. You hurried your steps; you didn’t want to let your client wait any longer, because that would be unprofessional. While you were busy with thoughts of work, Jim’s mind was filled with thoughts of you. He didn’t let it show, of course, he was in business mode. Manipulating people was fun for him, and that’s exactly what his business was all about. He gave out favours, making the ones who received them in debt to him, so that when he needed them to do the dirty work; they would do it no questions asked. After the average cabbie, he’s quickly moved onto granting the Black Lotus Tong illegal passage into Great Britain. It was all too easy for him, their leader was so afraid of him that he found it funny. When his phone buzzed twice in his pocket, he instantly checked. If General Shan was already frightened by his chuckles, then she could only pray to the Gods of her culture to keep her alive after seeing his face twisted in wrath. Jim did not like what he was seeing on his phone. How? How could you have delighted him and angered him at the same time? And just by texting him, of all things? You were a mere pet to him, were you not?

 

His fist was bashed against the coffee table, as he abruptly removed himself from his current seat and ended the meeting. His followers were shaking in their boots, fearing for their lives, with the exception of Sebastian. He sighed deeply; he was thinking about all kinds of reasons, which could tick his boss off to that extreme. He found none, so he did the only sensible thing he could manage at that moment. He asked.

 

“Something’s the matter, Boss?”

“…” Jim glared at Sebastian, as if his eyes could burn. “We’re leaving!”

“To where, may I ask?”

“To her.”

 

Sebastian’s eyes were expanding wider than the sun, as his jaws dropped lower than the ocean. It was a woman? Jim Moriarty was fussy over a woman? He put two fingers onto his temples, rubbing them. He had not yet been able to wrap his feelings or his thoughts over this abnormal behaviour coming from the most dangerous man he’d ever known. Moreover, it was because of a prostitute. To be fair, you were absolutely gorgeous, but to the point of driving Moriarty to insanity? Sebastian was impressed. Although, he was beginning to worry for your well-being. No one gets on Jim’s bad side and gets away with it. Upon arriving, Sebastian opened the car’s door; he secretly hoped he wouldn’t have to scrub your intestines off the floor. He did enjoy watching you stripping from afar, maybe a little too much. Brushing off the dirty thought reflecting in his eyes, he followed Jim into the building. It wasn’t very long before Moriarty kicked down Madame Jacqueline’s office door, grabbed her hair and made her kneel.

 

“Jacqueline, my dear, I thought I made myself clear!” Jim sang, a hint of malevolence in his voice.

“…Yes, Sir, you have.”

“Any last words?” Jim held the Madame at gun point. Sebastian just rolled his eyes; he almost pitied the poor woman.

“Please spare me, Sir…”

“Typical,” his gun clicked as his finger nearly pulled the trigger.

“No! Wait! Just hear me out! She’s in the next room, right now!”

His grip on the gun loosened, but his rage had yet faded, “…Go on.”

“The client has a fetish called melolagnia.”

“Arousal by music?” Sebastian raised his eyebrow at the word.

“Yes, he gets off by listening to her strumming the Grand. No sexual contact needed.”

“It still doesn’t excuse your disobedience, Jacqueline!”

“Yeah, don’t all your girls know how to play the piano?” Sebastian added.

“He only wants her! He’s always said that her singing voice soothed him after,” Jacqueline cried.

 

Without warning, Jim knocked the Madame unconscious with the back of his gun. He was immensely displeased. You have never played for him or sung for him; not even once. Yet, there you were, comfortably doing all that for someone else. Moriarty thought he would be satisfied after taking all of your physical firsts on that night, one year ago. He couldn’t be more wrong. His chest was burning with envy as he marched into the next room with a loud bang. The music stopped when your finger landed on the wrong note, caused by the unanticipated noise. You swiftly turned your head towards the door, still keeping your poise.

 

“Hello, Sir.”

“…” Jim gruntingly fast-walked to your direction, pointing the gun at your client, “Get the fuck out.”

“Sir?” you tilted your head, awfully confused, while the other guy ran with his tails between his legs.

“Play for me, kitten~” Moriarty lowered the gun as he sat down to an armchair, smiling.

“Which piece, Sir?”

“Your favourite,” he licked his lips, expecting.

 

Your heart almost skipped a beat, but you quickly regained your composure, as the seductive melody of betrayal filled the room. You closed your eyes, drowning your mind with that perfect harmony; so you did not notice him closing in on you. Jim watched your fingers danced as he gently rested his own on your shoulders, tauntingly caressing the fabric of your shirt, indirectly teasing your skin. He made you flinch a little, but did not break your concentration. His hands started travelling down your arms, lightly touching your elbows, while his hot breath grazed your ears. “Sing for me,” he whispered. You gasped at the sudden rise of heat; you opened your mouth slightly, obeying his order. Not even a second has passed till your voice overflew the air. It was hypnotizing.

 

Jim then found himself in another disarrayed position; a clear bulge has appeared in his pants. He sat himself down behind you on the large bench; as he impatiently cupped your ripe fruits. You yelped in a high-pitch tone as your fingers crash against the keyboard, disrupting the ballad. “I never said you could stop,” he murmured his alluring Irish accent while his hands began massaging the buttons on your swollen flesh. You chewed the inner wall of your cheek, trying to block the sensuality caused by his irresistible gestures out of your mind. Slowly, your fingers waltzed back ’n’ forth; your voice completely in sync with the right rhythm. Jim chuckled on the nape of your neck, sending chills down your spine, as his fingertips traced downward your body. He unzipped your pants, expanding the dishevelled clothing; he wanted more space. “Spread your legs now, kitten~” he commanded. You obediently fulfilled his desire, as your breathing patterns turned rag. He didn’t mind that you ended the song earlier than expected, since his own problem was growing bigger by the minutes.

 

“Kneel on the piano,” his voice grew huskier.

“…Yes,” the notes were out of tune as you placed your knees on the keys.

“Perfect,” he leisurely pulled down your wet panties.

“Hpm…”

“My my…What a naughty girl you’ve been,” he stared at your fully exposed lady part before pushing a finger inside.

“Ugh!” the wrong notes increased their volumes when you were trying to keep your balance.

“Silence,” he inserted another digit, causing your body to squirm.

“…” you bit your bottom lip, following his demand.

“Good girl,” his fingers moved in circles, sometimes up ‘n’ down, making your love juice squirt.

“…” you shut your eyes tightly, inhaling sharp breaths, sobbing slightly.

“Hmmm…What did I just say?” he spanked your rear with his other hand, letting out a dirty smacking sound.

“…I’m sorry,” your voice turned into a delicious cry.

“Bad girls deserve to be punished,” he stated as he removed his Westwood along with unveiling his huge member.

“F-Forgive me… HAH!” you almost tripped over the Grand when he slammed his cock, hard, into you.

“Hgn! Tight.”

 

Your fingernails dug into the smooth edges, as his thrusts changed their pace. Dysfunctional musical notes mixed with sultry moans were resonating in every corner of the room. Jim loved how you screamed his name, pleading for mercy, begging him to cease his continuous orgasms. Amazingly, the grand piano hadn't collapsed yet, but it would surely have to be replaced, due to the amount of scratches and body fluids smeared all over the surface. On the other hand, there was another pressing matter. Even if you knew exactly how to protect yourself from being impregnated, there was no possible way to prevent it when Jim Moriarty kept coming inside you, over and over, for the past hour.

 

“J-Jim…Oh…P-Please…Stop…”

“Not yet~” he plunged even deeper, wrecking every wall you had.

“N-No…I can’t…anymore,” tears of ecstasy and exhaustion were falling from your eyes.

“I don’t care~”

“I-I’d…get…p-pregnant.”

“If that’s what. it takes. for you to be. mine,” he rode you faster; stealing every single breath you took.

“But…Ah…I’m already y-yours.”

 

His manhood jammed into your womb, releasing every warm bit of semen one last time; before he brought your hips down to the bench. He gradually pulled his shaft out of you; he turned you around to face him. Jim gently held your body, as he laid a loving kiss on your lips; his eyes fully shut, his eyebrows furrowed. You were still too entranced to notice the big difference happening right then. The King of Crime has fallen in love; he has fallen for you. And you would be the death of him. Hot cum was oozing out of your womanly folds, soaking his thighs as well as the leathered bench. He couldn’t help but find the image extremely perverted.

 

“Someone’s leaking a sum,” he grinned.

“Would you prefer that I not, Sir?”

“No~ We’ll save it for another day,” he nibbled on your neck, leaving more love bites.

“Yes, Sir.”

“Call me Jim.”

“Pardon?”

“From now on, you will address me by name, kitten~” his jet black orbs gazed upon yours.

“I don’t understand?”

“Comon’, it’s not rocket science! That’s what lovers do.”

“Lovers?” you were even more confused by his words.

“Yes, you are mine. And I am yours. All that crap~”

“…” your eyes darted between his and the ground.

“So what’s your answer, love?”

“…” your train of thoughts were running 1000 miles per hour.

“You better not leave me hanging! I’d rather not kill you, sweetie~”

“…Yes,” you mumbled under your breath as you wrapped your arms around his neck, kissing him passionately.

 

Sebastian was standing outside, guarding the door and listening to everything. Two psychopaths have finally found their places in each other’s arms. Whether he should feel happy for them or worried, he didn’t know. Nevertheless, he was sure of one thing; the future would not be so bright for the normal human population.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a confession to make... These two parts were my first smut ever. So please forgive me if it's not up to your expectation. Anyhow, thank you very much for your patience in reading the whole thing. Hope you guys enjoy it. :)


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